A Hero Unto the Death
by FigmentsoftheImagination
Summary: Peter Parker was a very strange young man. Or at least that's what his Aunt May would say. However, his nerdy complexion and overall normal appearance would contradict his aunt's words. It's the ones that are overlooked that have some of the biggest secrets stored inside. And Peter is one who carries the weight of the world on his shoulders. Nerd to Hero? No one would believe it.
1. Chapter 1

I have no Idea what got me writing a spider man fic. I swear I don't even read the comics nor have I read a single fan fic. I think I'm losing my brain cells. I've watched the movies and read the actual plot line but that's If I have mistakes reprimand me. And I have to say that the original plot line is very sad, but it is also pure genius. Onwards to the prologue!

Disclaimer: I don't own Spider man.

It was a bright sunny day with birds chirping and swallows singing to their hearts desire. Okay so that's a lie. It wasn't a perfect morning. There were rain clouds seen on the horizon and silence hovered over a small street. Several rundown town homes lined each side of the road, their brown paint peeling off the buildings by the many years of weathering and erosion. One particular home of Forest Hills, Queens was the residence of Peter Parker and his adoptive parents who were, surprisingly enough, his Aunt and Uncle.

An older woman sat in flowered wallpaper covered kitchen, a chipped mug held in hand. Her lips were crinkled into a frown and her brown eyes held a small amount of concern in them.

"That boy," she muttered. "He's going to miss the bus."

With a creak of weary limbs she stood to her feet and passed by her husband as he lay sprawled across the couch snoozing.

She grinned slightly and smacked Ben on the arm.

"Set a good example for Peter and get up."

The aforementioned man was startled from his slumber and gazed sleepily at his wife from his spot on the couch.

He winced and gingerly rubbed the back of his head while sending his angered wife a sheepish grin.

"How can I set a good example when I'm nothing but a lousy electrician? I don't want that boy following in my steps."

May gave him a disapproving scowl." It's not the big things that count Ben. It's the little things that get it started."

"Now where is that boy?" She cried and stood at the foot of the stairs connecting to the second story floor.

Ben watched his wife with an amused smile and stood from his position with a stretch of his limbs.

"Peter! You're going to be late for school," exclaimed his Aunt May.

After a minute of silence Ben spoke, "I'll go get him."

"Nonsense, you're too old to be climbing up a set of stairs." May said voicing her concern.

"It'll be great exercise for my shaking limbs." He glanced up the stairs and muttered lowly under his breath, "If I can even reach past the fifth step."

He sucked his chest in and held as much air as possible in his lungs before releasing it with one big whooshing sound.

"I'm ready," He said with a determined face. He stretched his leg and set his foot onto the first stair step. With a small grimace he prepared himself for his body weight to settle painfully on one limb and a creaky old knee.

He leaned slightly forward to gain some momentum for when he would begin to march up the steps but a sudden bang followed by the sound of a door slamming open startled him from his determined state and he fell in an ungraceful heap at the bottom of the stairs.

May stared in slight shock at both her fallen husband and her adoptive son who stood at the top of the stairs his brown hair strewn across his forehead and poking out from behind his ears.

It became too much for her and she broke out into small yet heartfelt chuckles. Ben pulled himself to his feet bracing his hands on his thighs as a source of support all the while glaring at his wife.

"Is my misfortune that hilarious?" He questioned with a small pout settled across his features.

All May could do was nod her head in agreement as she laughed.

Peter stood at the top of the stairs and peered down at his parents quizzically.

Had he missed something important? It seemed so. He shrugged his shoulders indifferently and leaped down the stairs landing next to his Aunt May as she held her hand over her mouth.

She calmed her laughter and gazed at Peter with a soft motherly expression as she ran her hand through his knotted locks of hair.

Peter wrinkled his nose in irritation. He cared very little for his appearance and even less so when people got into his personal space. But he would do anything for Aunt May.

She slapped her hands into place on either side of his cheeks and gave them a squeeze. Peter's blue eyes bulged as she stretched the skin and cooed at how adorable and handsome her son was turning out to be.

Personally Peter was confused seeing how adorable and handsome did not fit in the same category. And he knew as a fact he was neither adorable nor handsome.

In fact, if you asked anyone in his school they would tell you that he was a nerd and not worth a first glance.

He grasped his aunt's wrists gently and pulled away from her grip.

"Aunt May, your bruising my cheeks."

She pouted slightly before grinning as Peter vigorously rubbed his facial cheeks to let the blood rush through his veins once again. He glowered down at his aunt. For an older woman she sure did have a strong grip.

"You are going to miss the bus if you don't leave now," Spoke Ben interrupting Peter from his actions.

Peter snapped his head down to read the time from his wrist watch.

"Ah. I gotta go" He screamed.

He rushed up to his aunt and uncle giving them both a kiss on their wrinkled cheeks, their allspice soap filling his nostrils and their hair tickling his lips.

"You might want to shave the beard Aunt May." He taunted before running out the back door while laughing mischievously.

May stood in shock before lifting her fist in the direction where Peter had fled to escape her wrath.

"He'd better run. Lord knows what I would do to him had he stayed." She spoke with a twist of her lips.

Ben gripped her fist with his hand and smiled down at her, "Aye, calm down don't let his words get to you. I'll have you know that your beard is very dashing."

"Ben! Are you saying I have a beard?" She cried indignantly punching her husband in the arm.

"Ouch! What was that for?" He rubbed his tenderized shoulder before smirking at his wife." I swear it was a compliment."

She rolled her blue eyes and walked back into the kitchen. "If you say so. Now get your butt in here and eat your breakfast. Can't have your heart fail you now."

Ben's eyes lit up with the prospect of getting food and he immediately followed May into the Kitchen.

"Anything for you May."

* * *

Peter rushed out the door laughing as he imagined his aunt's irritated expression. She was so much fun to tease. Her age really didn't matter as she always told him that she wasn't dead yet and had many years ahead of her.

A frown settled across his face as ran towards his bus stop.

He had woken up late yet again from all the studying he had done the night before. Now he was going to be late and he knew as a fact that his bus driver would not wait for him.

She was one of those elderly ladies who obviously hated teenagers yet applied for a bus driver job which would entail being around teenagers. Either she was really desperate for a job or she was too lazy to care.

He had a feeling it was the latter reason.

A flash of an orange tinted, yellow, vehicle caught his attention causing his eyes to widen at the sight of his bus driving away, dust flying out from underneath the wheels.

"Wait," he yelled as he jogged in the direction of the bus.

He readjusted his back pack strap, securing it tightly to his shoulders, and pushed his legs to move faster.  
He had to catch that bus or all his hard work would go to waste.

He eyes lit up excitedly as he saw a green trash truck going at a slower pace but would assuredly pick up it's speed once it hit the street.

As soon as he sighted the truck a plan formulated within his mind and he acted.

He ran up to the truck and eyed the neon wearing man as he clung to a silver bar.

He said a silent prayer for the man, hoping that he wouldn't get injured in the process, and jerked the man from his place on the garbage disposal by his jacket.

He watched as the man fell to the ground as he took his place on the ledge, holding onto the silver bar of the back of the truck. He craned his neck backwards to see where the worker had fallen.

"Sorry!" He apologized to the fuming worker who lay sprawled on the cement, his neon jacket reflecting the sun light.

He returned his eye sight back to the bus that he was slowly and steadily gaining on. The turtle green truck puffed it's foul odors behind it spraying Peter with the fumes.

He pinched his nose closed in disgust. He couldn't believe he was doing this just to go to school. What he would do just to get an education.

"_Come on_," He thought, urging the truck to hurry up.

As he had predicted the truck picked up its pace and before long he was riding alongside the life sized Twinkie ( He swore that was the worst joke ever made in the entire history of yo mama jokes).

He blushed slightly as kids began to turn their heads and laugh at the sight of him.  
He felt anger rise within him before pushing it away with the gritting action of his teeth. He ignored their taunts and jeers and instead paid attention to the situation before him.

He knew the bus driver could see him so why wasn't she stopping?

He lifted an arm and began to wave it around wildly hoping to gain eye contact with her as he desperately held onto the trucks bar. She turned to look at him and with a small grimace she gestured to the light ahead.

_'Finally,'_ thought Peter before he smiled at her gratefully. As soon as the intersection came to a stop at the next red light, both vehicles stopped and Peter hopped down from his perch.

He ran around to the bus and knocked on the doors. The doors open with a swoosh and peter clambered up the stairs.

As soon as he was in full view he was assaulted with glares and smirking faces. Pushing their faces from his mind he plunked himself down in one of the seats and closed his eyes tiredly.

The day had just began and he already wished it would end.

* * *

The morning began as usual, until science class came around. Like a perfect book nerd, Peter raced eagerly towards his science class. But not for the reason you may think.

Yes he loved science above all other subjects, but he wasn't completely hopelessly in love with science that he would race to class.

He dashed up the stairs and to his science class before stopping, and brushing back his brown hair. He paused, readjusted his glasses, and then slid into the room.

Immediately he began to search for the one reason that made science class so entertaining.

He slouched into his classroom seat and laid his back pack at his feet. His heart skipped a beat as he sighted the blonde hair he had been searching for. He knew exactly who it was.

Gwen Stacey, the daughter of the City Police Captain and the girl who had ensnared Peter's teenage heart; and just about every other teenage boy's heart. Her bright smile and sea deep eyes caught the attention of every person despite their gender. Girls envied her and the boys wanted her.

But like most cliché stories go, the prettiest girl dated the most popular guy; which in this case was Flash Thompson, the star football player.

And because of Peter's rank in society and popularity, he was constantly being bullied by Flash and his 'goons'.

Flash of course knew of Peter's crush on Gwen and used his emotions to his advantage. Nothing was worse than your crush seeing you stuck in a trash can, food dribbling down your shirt collar and in between your teeth braces. The humiliation was ten times worse.

He snarled silently as he watched Flash enter the room laughing loudly. His voice was booming across the room easily drowning out the rest of his classmates voices and it enrages Peter to see him so confident and cocky.

Almost like he was a mind reader, Flash turned his eyes towards Peter and smirked as he slid his arm around Gwen possessively. Unaware of their little ego match,Gwen swung around to face Flash and gave him a small kiss on the lips.

At this Flash grinned viciously as he deepened the kiss. All Peter could do was watch in horror and fascination. His dream girl was kissing the bully! _"How dare he!"_ Fumed Peter.

He should remove his scaly lips from Gwen's and let Peter kiss her instead.

As unrealistic as he knew that sounded,he couldn't help but think that he liked the idea of his lips on Gwen's. Flash be damned.

They finished their agonizingly long kiss and sat down in their seats...with Gwen on his lap.

By now Peter didn't care that Flash saw his angry disposition or that Flash was smirking satisfactorily.

All he cared about was caving in Flash's ugly mug.

A sharp bell sounded interrupting Peter from his not so kind thoughts and brought his attention to the head of the class where the teacher stood.

With a soft sigh he pulled out his binder and began to work on the pamphlet that was being distributed.

Oh woe was his life for such a fair maiden to be left to at the hand of the merciless villain.

* * *

Yeah I know it is short. But I put it up so that I would push myself to write. What can I say? I'm a procrastinator at heart.


	2. Chapter 2

A short chapter I know. Because I'll be busy for the next couple of days I decided to post what I already have. And thanks to my viewers, favorite and my reviewer. I really didn't expect any at this time so thanks.

* * *

_A second is only a fraction of one's life, but for some, a second is the change of a lifetime._

* * *

The Bite

It was days like this that truly crushed Peter's hopes and ambitions.

The start of the day had been disastrous and Flash kept mocking him at every corner.

All of it was starting to wear on his nerves. A person can handle only so much derogatory and scornful words until they either break or blow.

Peter felt himself doing both. Reigning in on his emotions was not as difficult as he had a several years of practice especially after his parent's death.

But the emotional build up was something no one should lock up. And boy did Peter ever resent those pent up emotions.

Everything had been going great. Well, not great per say, rather it was normal.

The science field trip was soon to happen and all the teens were lined up in the school cafeteria.

With only a couple of bruises (Oh joy) Peter walked out of the school cafeteria and onto the back of the charter bus. He squeezed himself into the side of the window and gazed forward as Gwen entered the bus with Flash, regrettably, behind her.

The bus shook and squeaked as some of the heavier kids climbed aboard, their hands full of bags of what were undoubtedly packets of food and other sweets.

A rather odorous teen sat next to Peter his rolls of fat taking up two seats.

Peter kept his face a mask of blankness as he eyed the kid scratch his bum.

And he failed to see how this kid was more popular than him. The school's popularity scales were clearly broken.

A caveman was more popular him and the cocky bastard Flash was the head of popularity while nice Peter was at the bottom. Society was really messed up.

With a heavy sigh Peter turned his eyes to the foggy colored window and peered out at the passing landscape.

As he watched the world pass by he wondered if that was how life was like; a blur of empty colors and void of any excitement.

Was it life to live for an education and money? What would be the point of that?

He couldn't seem to find an answer as to why he lived. He wished it was because he wanted to save and protect his loved ones but he was a weak and miserable maggot crawling on the ground compared to others.

He grimaced internally.

How does one live if they have no worth?

The questions plagued his mind unsettling him with his rather depressing thoughts.

It wouldn't do him any good to think like that. All he could do was live to the best of his ability and make his Uncle and Aunt proud.

Felling slightly better than before, Peter turned his attention to the museum coming closer as the bus driver parked within the lot. Teens began to file impatiently out of the bus, eager to be somewhere outside of school.

After stumbling down the bus steps, Peter decided to walk over towards the group that would be guided through the radiation parts of the science museum rather than the group for archeology.

The guide began to lead them through all the scientific experiments and showed them their theories and outcomes.

"'And this," Spoke the guide" Is a group of spiders that we have set aside for testing radioactive waves and the effects of radiation. They are genetically enhanced for such experiments but despite what we do they always die seconds, sometimes minutes after they are hit with a wave of radiation."

"Could you demonstrate?" asked Peter.

Several snickers sounded behind him along with several elbow nudges at his request.

He was Entranced about radiation and what it could do. Some said that it was a possible solution for cancers of sorts and others said it mutated body parts.

He was unsure if either theories were correct or even plausible or that matter, but such a mind boggling idea awoke his curiosity.

The guide seemed rather surprised but agreed with a wide smile.

Snapping on a pair of gloves, she began to pull out a spider with a red appearance.

Despite their jokes the rest of Peter's peer group watched intently as the guide laid the spider within a small glass latched it close and pressed a red button on the bottom panel.

"After I pressed the red button waves of radiation immediately began to filter through a small spigot inside the box. You cannot physically see the waves but our equipment allows us to monitor the amount of radiation going out and entering into the box."

A small hissing sound filled the lab and soon afterwards the equipment stopped their whirring sounds and came to a quiet stop.

Everyone began to crowd around the box to see if the spider had gone under any physical changes and were surprised immensely at the sudden growth spurt the spider had undertook. With a gasp the guide began to screech.

"It worked!" She began to call out to her coworkers and they immediately rushed to the lab. Their voices rose in exclamations as they studied the spider soon within their gloved hands.

The guide stood before the rest of Peter's stunned class mates and began to speak proudly," You are the first ever to witness the effects of radiation on a spider. We are immediately going over the differences of the spider and you will know at a later date. Sadly we cannot release this information until it has become ascertained that the effects are not dangerous or harmful in anyway. But I assure there is the other side of the science museum that offers many other intriguing prospects on archeology, biology and astrophysics."

She began to beckon the confused and disappointed teens from the lab room.

Unfortunately as crowded as the place was a mistake was sure to happen. And what a mistake it turned out to be.

With a notebook in hand and furiously scribbling away, Peter seemed completely ignorant of what was going on around him as his sole focus was on the spider held in another scientist's hand.

As he studied it he could've sworn that the spider was slowly crumbling in on itself. It appeared to be dying as the waves had been too much for it to survive.

With a sudden leap the spider left the shocked scientist's hand and traveled through the air. It grasped at its web that it had shot and attached itself to Peter.

Frozen in shock, all Peter could do was watch as it came closer and closer until it landed on his hand which held his pencil. His reading glasses focused and appeared to zoom in on every aspect and appearance of the withering spider.

It glanced at Peter with its eight eyes before pulling out a pair of large fangs and biting into his hand.

The sudden shock of pain moved Peter to action causing him to flick his wrist letting the now dead spider land into the box whence it had come.

The others were unaware of what had taken place (seeing how everything had happened within a second) and continued to leave the science lab.

It was one second that changed Peter's life, and the lives around him forever.

* * *

At the end of the trip, Peter left for home in a daze.

For a reason he could not fathom, his shirt began to feel restraining and his eyesight blurred before miraculously gaining focus again.

He pulled off his glasses after this had happened several times and inspected them.

Was he going blind? Or did his glasses no longer work?

Shrugging Peter replaced his glasses and continued his sluggish walk back home.

He did not notice that after his glasses had been removed his eyesight became sharper and more defined.

But then again, if one was sick they would pay less attention to their surroundings than if they were in a fit condition.

After what seemed to be a long walk, Peter arrived at the footsteps of his home. He opened the door and slid off his back pack and shoes letting the door behind him slam shut.

"Peter? Is that you?"

Spoke his Aunt.

Peter, not feeling up to answer her call, gave a small grunt in response.

He waved at her as he passed her in her rocking chair as she knit.

Her face blurred before his eyes and her voice faded in an out of his conscience.

He couldn't even remember when he had walked up the stair steps and entered his room.

With a grateful sigh he slumped onto his mattress and covered himself with his covers trying to quell the shivers that attempted to overtake his body.

Shortly afterwards he fell into a restless sleep filled with flashing images of a spider and eight eyes peering into his soul.

If asked what had happened that day he would've answered that it was a normal school day with nothing exciting. But it was one lie of many that he would create to keep those around him safe. 


	3. Chapter 3

Well I can write all I want for now since my busy week is..not so busy. I swear iv'e been writing on my phone at almost every second I have i. Sadly I still have my duties. Oooh does anyone know of anyone in the dc Washington Maryland area willing to hire a sixteen year old. Because I'm looking for a job and I swear you always have to be eighteen or older. Damn. First it was sixteen and now it's eighteen.

* * *

_ After a good Fist fight men become close friends. After a fight women are mortal enemies forever. What happened to logic?_

* * *

Chapter Three Starting of a New and Strange day.

Sunlight filtered through a pair of drapes and hit Peter smack in the eyes burning his retinas with the intensity of the heat. With a small groan, he rolled over burying his face into his pillows. He peered at the clock from underneath his unruly hair and was relieved to read that it was only 7:45.

He sighed gratefully and loosed his tense limbs.

A second later he snapped his eyes open as he realized that school began at 7:25 am. and tried to bolt from his bed despite the tangle of covers restricting his limbs.

With a grimace he prepared himself to fall to the floor but was surprised to realize it hadn't hurt as much as he had expected.

He frowned slightly confused before shrugging, and pulling himself up off the floor.

With surprising ease.

"What the?" He whispered quietly to himself not being able to believe what was happening.

With a shake of his head he rushed towards his closet to change his clothes.

"Oh come on!" He yelled in frustration.

He was already late for school and his clothing no longer fit him.

Just what the hell was going on?

In a panicked state Peter grasped a random set of clothing and pulled them on.

Barely giving himself a second to breath, he left his room and rushed down the stairs and into the kitchen. He snatched an apple from the counter and dashed out the front door, his back pack in hand and his shoes in the other.

Silence filled the small home before May spoke, "Was that Peter? Shouldn't he have been in school by now?"

"May, be quiet, I'm trying to sleep."

There was a rustling sound followed by a loud smack.

"What was that for?" exclaimed Ben.

"For being rude."

Peter felt a river of sweat trickle down his shirt collar as he stood in front of his second period teacher and the rest of his classmates.

He fidgeted slightly as they all stared at him with expressions of shock and disbelief.

He wasn't that shocking to look at...right?

He moved his hand towards his glasses as a habitual nervous gesture.

He was shocked to find that they were missing from his face.

Maybe that was why everyone was so shocked.

"And why are you late Mr. Parker?"

Or not.

Everyone seemed to sit on the edges of their seats as they anticipated his answer.

"Erm, I slept in." He replied honestly.

The teacher glanced at him in annoyance. He sighed and pointed towards the board with the log in for tardy students.

"Go sign your name and then sit down and turn your history book to where we ended yesterday's lesson."

Peter quickly did as he was told and slouched into his seat trying to hide from the prying eyes of his classmates.

Whispers began to float swim around the room smacking Peter in the face as he heard his name repeated more often than not.

Even Gwen gave him a second glance.

Peter smirked at that. If he had known that coming in late and not wearing his glasses would catch Gwen's attention he would've done it sooner.

Certain whispers caught Peter's attention as a pair of ditzy blondes tittered behind their painted nails.

"Look at all that muscle. Who knew that Pete would be so hot without his usual hoodie(hood?) ?"

Another girl spoke up," I know right? Who would hide that brawn? If I had good looks I would flaunt them."

The other girl rolled her eyes, "You do flaunt your looks. All the time."

They laughed with their tinkling voices and continued to talk about other boys sparing Peter a few more glances as class began to delve back into their assignments.

With a shake of his head Peter returned to his attention to the teacher before him.

Lunch came rolling around and peter all but rushed towards his lunch spot outside under the small pine tree.

The looks he kept getting all day flattered him immensely and yet they creeped him out.

He wasn't some piece of meat to be eyed.

And that was what everyone was doing. They were sizing him up, weighing out his worth.

Fucking assholes.

Thankfully there were some that barely noticed Peter's not so dramatic changes.

The simplest things such as the loss of his glasses and the slight tightness of his clothing drew eyes towards him like he was the star of a movie.

He was startled, confused and above all else annoyed.

People were so shallow.

He was still the same person inside.

Guess that's why those type of people were called shallow as they only saw the outward appearances and not deep down.

With a small grimace he continued to sit under the tree, his head laid back against the bark of the tree.

His stomach gurgled loudly, letting its empty state known.

Stupid alarm didn't go off. Stupid sleep cycle.

Dumb tight and constricting shirt.

It was slowly suffocating him, making him feel like he was trapped within his own skin. Slowly wounding tighter and tighter until like a rubber band it broke.

"Hey Pete," a gaggle of girls passed by, tittering behind their hands and fluttering their eyelashes in as a so not obvious seduction attempt.

Great. Now the school sluts wanted him.

He gave them a small nod and they freaked out with sharp tinkling laughter.

He rolled his eyes. _Were all girls so shallow?_

No never mind. He couldn't judge.

People were people and each had their own opinions and choices.

"Look at what we have here. If it ain't Pete the freak. (Author snickers in background. Sooo cliché )

Peter grimaced, " What do you want Flash?"

Flash smirked as he nudged his 'friends'.

"The loser thinks he can question what I want or do. "

He got close to Peter his face up in his business.

"I want to make you bleed and feel pain like you've never felt before. I want to peel your eyeball out of your skull so you can never look at my girlfriend again. And then lastly, I want to make your life miserable."

"Like your life?" Peter asked starkly.

Of course he was only joking but unknown to him, his words hit Flash as they rang with truth.

See, what most didn't know about Flash was his home life.

He's mother had left him at a young age because of his father whom was an abuser and wasted his money on frivolities like beer and gambling.

And Flash was the only one who got the brunt of the action. Bruises were a common occurrence and the only way Flash new how to deal with such pain was make others feel the same way.

Flash paused for the briefest second as he realized that if he continued living as he was, he would turn out to be like his father and he never wished upon anyone a life he lived.

Humbled, Flash spoke intending to end their one-sided disputes once and for all.

"One last fight Parker," Flash spoke readying his fist and settling his weight onto his knees as he crouched slightly.

Parker eyed the boy and knew that inevitably there would be a fight between the two of them.

He nodded his head and stood, leaving his back pack against the tree.

They stood facing each other, a group of teens surrounding them and yelling out encouragement to their favorite person.

Surprised that he had anyone cheering for him at all, Peter's self-esteem rose like the corner of his lips.

Maybe for once he could fight Flash on even terms and win. It was a slim chance but still plausible.

But if this fight was like any of the last ones he would lose, and miserably so.

Peter swung his right fist as an awkward attempt to subdue Flash.

Unexpectedly his punch connected with Flash's abdomen muscles.

Big brown eyes widened and blood flew out of the corner of Flash's mouth as his body withdrew from the pain.

Cheers, mingled with gasps of shock, rang throughout the spectators.

Peter felt his own mouth open in shock at the sight of a crumpled Flash.

Since when did he ever get a shot at Flash?

Flash was in the football team he should be sturdier and spry. Meaning he should of whipped Peter's ass into the ground.

Dumbfounded, all Peter could do was glance at his fist, then stare at Flash who lay on the ground.

A small part of him wished that Flash would get up and fight back. But his other stronger side wished he would continue laying there and leave Peter alone.

Finally, Flash stumbled to his feet with a grimace stretch across his face.

"Since when did you have such a mean right hook?"

Peter shrugged, "I wasn't aware I had one in the first place."

Flash suddenly grinned, "So Pete's finally grown a pair of balls."

"That's a crude way of saying it but yes, I suppose so."

"This should be fun. Much better than our previous skirmishes where you just laid there like a sloth crawling on the ground."

Peter shrugged, "I wasn't the one who initiated any of those fights. Whereas you started this fight and already you took a hit to the guts. I would say that I was the one winning."

Flash growled before lunging angrily at Peter.

Suddenly everything seemed to freeze before his eyes. Flash's wild eyes stared him in the face and the punch inches from breaking his nose.

He blinked, startled, and gently tilted his head to the side.

As soon as he had repositioned his body, the freeze thawed and everything came back. The noises, cheers and most of all Flash's fist which breezed by Peter's cheek began to go into movement.

Confused more than ever Peter could only move instinctively away from Flash's fists and kicks.

Deciding to test his new strength, Peter lashed out his left leg and swiped it under his opponent's legs.

Flash gave a loud squawk and tumbled to the ground.

Silence met Peter's ears. No one spoke and no one moved. All eyes were on the felled body of Flash who refused to move.

Peter cautiously moved towards him before nudging him with the toe of his shoe.

"Oh shit!" He exclaimed

He had knocked Flash out. Peter began to slap at Flash's cheeks hoping to revive him.

Finally Flash began to groan as the crowd finally dissipated.

He rubbed his jaw and head which had hit the ground.

He glanced up into Peter's concerned eyes.

"Pete?" He questioned.

"What the hell are you doing?"

He rolled his eyes as he held out his hand.

"Offering you a hand. What else does it look like?"

He asked sarcastically.

Flash's eyes widened.

"Well, then, who am I to deny help."

He grasped Peter's outstretched hand and hoisted himself up with the help of Peter.

He dusted off the bottom of his jeans before studying Peter.

A question ran through Flash's mind as he spoke quietly, and hesitantly," Friends?"

Peter smiled brightly and voiced his opinion.

"Friends."

The bell rang loudly letting the teens know class was back in session and the two boys shook hands before nodding.

"See you later?"

Flash asked.

"Later," Peter responded.

And each moved onto their own class.

If Peter had looked back at that moment as he walked to class, he would've seen the smile of gratitude covering Flash's face.

But he didn't and that was fine. Besides, Flash had an image to uphold and going all soft would lose the girls.

* * *

Sorry about my last update by the way. I had no idea I had repeated the same chapter since I updated in a rush. Tsk tsk. You guys should of told me! Gosh thanks so much for ryeman200. You guys should go thank or pm that person. Yup I'm talking to you my dear readers. or else you wouldn't have been able to read chapter two. But seriously. Tell me when I make mistakes.


	4. Chapter 4

Well. I feel like a dick for not updating. And I said I would have free time. Still trying to get that job you know. So bothersome. I wish it was easier to gain a job position. Any ways I really hit a road block on this part of the story but I finally had an idea...just read the chapter. XD

* * *

Peter rushed back home with a feeling of accomplishment swelling within.

He had made a friend and it was his previous bully. Strange how that worked out.

He entered his home and happily yelled out ,"I'm home."

Silence met his call and he frowned. Where did his aunt and uncle go?

"Oh that's right," he said whilst snapping his fingers.

"Tonight's bingo night."

He chuckled. Good for them. He made his way to his room and dropped his back pack on the top of his bed.

He the turned to his connected bathroom and scrutinized his features.

His brown hair lay like a mop on top of his head and his eyes stared impassively back at him. Why could he see things so clearly?

What was that frozen moment in time that happened earlier? And why was he so strong? He thought back to what had happened out of the ordinary.

Suddenly his mind settled on the incident from the science museum earlier that week. Or wasn't just yesterday that the spider had bitten him?

He turned his hand palm up and nearly gasped at the sight of two red dots lining the inside of his wrist. The skin was inflamed and if he looked close enough, the two dots rose several centimeters higher than the rest of his skin.

Like small tunnels. He gaped and concentrated on the impossibilities that lay within the ideas running through his brain.

The cogs turned and finally it all clicked into place.

"No way," He screeched, pushing himself away from his wrist.

Of course that was one of his most idiotic actions as his wrist was attached to his arm therefore the rest of his body. He slowly began to fall through the air and everything around him froze once more.

knowing what would happen Peter immediately righted himself before he could fall. He placed his free hand around his wrist and stared at it as if it was from some alien planet.

Heh in a sense it might as well have come from another planet.

"Radiation," He mused.

"All of this happened because of radiation," he spoke in an awed yet horrified voice as he realized the profound changes in is body.

Deciding to test his new additions, he moved over to his set of weights that he had never really used before as he was more concerned about his school work.

But now, he lay down on the padded bench and began to press the weight already stationed on his bars.

The hundred pounds were easy enough to lift, but for any eighteen year old guy you better be able to lift one hundred pounds or you were a wimp.

He stood to gently place on more weights, fifty more, one hundred more, and finally two hundred more pounds were placed on the press bars.

In total there was three hundred pounds on the lift bars and

Peter was easily able to lift them. He shook in slight fear of his new brutish strength.

How was this possible? He lifted his hands to tear at his hair as he sat there contemplating the situation he was in. In frustration he banged his fist against the wall and stared in shock as a hole was made along with several cracks.

Note to self; do not touch anything unless you have an accurate idea of your new strength.

Oh gosh this is so fucked up.

He began to laugh hysterically at the implications that he could very possibly be some type of freak now.

Hopefully there wouldn't be any other changes but something told Peter that this was not the end of said changes.

He sighed emotionally drained and threw himself limply on the bed.

He looked out his bedroom window and wondered if things would ever be the same again. He doubted it.

Suddenly a grin stretched across his features. If he was some freak of nature then he would use his abilities for the best possible thing.

Like getting girls. He nodded his head determined . Yuup. And then Gwen would realize his potential.

Another part of him started to scream at him advising him to use his talents for the right thing.

For instance, helping the law force or saving lives.

But just this once, Peter shut down that voice and decided that he would do whatever he wanted and no one could ever stop him.

He smirked and his mind set with determination, he began to plan.

* * *

A dark figure could be seen hunched over in half as they crawled out of an open window. It was easily past midnight and the small house was void of any light. A soft thump followed after the figure landed on the ground. Peter grinned.

For whatever reason his skills in climbing out of his bedroom window was ten times easier than before.

Maybe it was another side effect from the radiation. He would have to check it out later.

He adjusted his hood and silently left his home leaving his aunt and uncle back at home asleep from their exciting day,.

He chuckled mischievously. His parents would kill him if they found out what he was doing and where he was going.

He slipped out of his back yard and dashed down the pitch dark streets until he was satisfied with the distance between him and his parents.

His limbs were already shaking from the thrill to come and the actions of rebelling against his parents rules.

In all respect he trusted his parents but he was old enough to make his own decision.

Not that they would necessarily be the right ones. More likely than not they would be wrong but that was how you learned from past mistakes.

His sneakers squeaked as they stepped into to puddles and onto the cement. Lamp lights shined down on him as he passed underneath, outlining him in his black outfit.

He pulled at the shirt wrapped around his chest. The tight v-neck shirt was comfortable but he could feel himself sweating in anxiety.

Was he sure he wanted to do this?

He eyes turned stony as he made his mind. It was now or never.

Like people said, 'You only live once'. Well, there was an afterlife he was sure of that but right now he cared very little about the future and more about the present

He snuck towards Moonshine Club his steps eager yet his heart beating in anxiety.

He slipped his way towards the back entrance and before anyone could even see him, entered the club.

A musky scent flooded through his nose. Perfume, sweat and other unmentionable scents wafted past.

Both women and men were wearing their best clubbing clothes and more than half were swaying about drunk.

A chuckle escaped Peter's lips.

This was how one would 'live it up'.

He slithered his way between the mass of writhing bodies and made his way towards a bar. Multi colored lights gave the dark room a glowing appearance. Both green pink and blue hues covered the bar tinting brown beer bottles to a sea green or almost black.

Peter slid into one of the stools and sat patiently for the bartender.

As he waited he observed the people around him noticing the huge amount of black clothing. Why blend in by wearing black when you could stand out with brighter colors.

Then again, he peered down at his own outfit and noticed that he was wearing all black.

But he had to sneak out and remain inconspicuous.

What he was doing was certainly not illegal; it was more like it was frowned upon.

Peter disagreed with the current laws. Smoke at eighteen and alcohol at 21.

It made no sense. You could join the army at eighteen and die, yet you couldn't drink.

Showed what the government thought of their soldiers.

Besides why forbid smoking? It wasn't like alcohol where you could get drunk and cause accidents.

A hand banged on the wood top in front of him bringing his attention to the burly bartender. To his surprise it was a middle aged woman. He had always assumed it would be a big burly male like you see in movies.

Then again Hollywood had the tendency to lie and glamorize life.

"What can I get you young'un?"

Her voice was rough probably from smoking if the smell wafting off of her was any indication.

He smiled as charmingly as possible and spoke," What's the best you got?"

The woman arched her brow.

"You new to bars eh?"

Peter blinked.

"Am I that obvious?"

She chuckled lowly.

"When you get to be my age you know who is old enough to be at a bar and who's not."

"Are you going to kick me out?" He asked apprehensively.

She waved her hand. "Happens all the time. Just promise me you won't drive home drunk."

Peter nodded his head enthusiastically.

She tossed a towel over her shoulder and stalked off, only to arrive shortly after with a pale blue drink in hand.

"Try this one. It's not as strong as the others so it'll be best for a newbie. Unless you are a light weight you shouldn't get too drunk."

Peter thanked her before she left," No problem. It's on the house."

He grinned around the rim of his glass and nodded at her before he took a large gulp.

Immediately he began to cough at the burning sensation that trailed down his throat and now settled in the pit of his stomach.

He glared at the woman's back as she laughed uproariously.

She knew that would happen and didn't warn him.

He wiped at his tearing eyes.

Not strong his ass. This stuff was like a glass of vinegar with a sweeter after taste.

Despite all that he kept glancing at the drink resting on the counter.

His pinched shoulder grew lax and before he knew it, he took another sip.

And another after that.

Before long the drink was gone and he began to dance and sway with the rest of the night club people.

He found himself laughing at some of the dumbest things and grinding on anything with a skirt.

Dear God he was such a light weight.

He couldn't even remember what had taken place a few minutes before hand.

So it was no surprise when he suddenly found himself at the wheel of some car hat he got from who knows where, driving like a maniac through the streets.

Two girls were in the back on either side of a man he had no recollection as to what his name was.

All he knew was that he was having a good time. Until something happened that would change his life like nothing else.

He couldn't say what exactly woke him out of his drunken stupor.

It could've been the sight of his uncle's yellow car heading straight at him, or maybe it was the frantic screams in the back seat yelling at him to stop.

Either way it was too late.

The car and the yellow one, he knew to be his uncles, collided in a spray of glass and steel.

All that Peter could remember seeing was the sight of bright headlights and a shock of grey hair draping into his uncle's fearful eyes.

And then there was darkness.

The sound of beeping filled Peter's ears as he slowly revived from his drug induced state.

He pried open his sticky eyelids before slamming them closed.

Damn the light stung his eyes.

And what was with the headache crashing his skull in?

He slowly raised his shaking arm and swiped it down his face.

Once more, he slowly lifted a single eye lid and let his eyes adjust the blaring white hospital lights.

He groaned softly.

What happened? All he remembered was drinking and then,.

He bolted from his lying position.

Ben!

He grimaced and gripped his wrapped ribs. They appeared to be broken.

Despite the pain he urged himself to move and wiggled his way to the edge of his bed letting his legs hang over the floor.

Just as he was about to stand a nurse came rushing in.

He ignored her yells that rang through his head as he tore an iv drip from his inner elbow.

A pair of hands pushed on his chest and as he looked he could see a frantic nurse mouthing words that he couldn't hear.

In fact, everything was starting to blur and all too soon, everything faded.

A drop fell on his hand.

Then another, before a stream of water coated his limp hand. Peter's sub conscious could faintly hear a woman sobbing as she gripped his limb.

She seemed familiar. A nagging at the back of his mind brought a single name forward.

May.

Ben's wife.

Ben.

Peter gasped awake. He snapped his head around when he heard a voice of elation.

"Peter,"

The previous tears of sorrow took an abrupt change and soon the sound of choked laughing echoed in the sterilized room.

Brown met teary blue eyes in a clash of emotions.

"Ben?" croaked Peter.

He gazed at May scrutinizing her facial features or more importantly, her sorrowful eyes and downturned lips as they quivered slightly.

Peter's throat tightened causing it to feel like a golf ball was lodged in his throat.

Finally his throat muscles relaxed and a sob tore past his lips.

His mouth was held open in a silent cry as his shoulders shook viciously. If one were to ignore the tears they would assume he was laughing.

Faintly, he could feel a set of arms wrap around him pulling him to a warm chest.

Loving words were whispered in his ear and his hair was stroked with a motherly touch.

Nothing was clearer though, than the thought that Ben was dead.

And it was all his fault.

* * *

They told him that Ben died quick and painlessly by a broken neck. The passengers in the back seat from the club made it out with only a couple of cuts and bruises. He himself had ended up in a coma from a concussion and broken ribs.

They said it was a miracle he was even alive.

In all fairness Peter knew he should be dead. He should be the one cold, being lowered into the ground, and lifeless.

But somehow some way he had survived.

Standing at the funeral al Peter could do was play the if game in his mind.

If only he had stopped the car sooner.

If only he hadn't stepped into that car drunk. Why did he have to go to that club? Was 'living it up' really worth Ben's life?

Just one second difference and Ben would still be alive.

A chuckle escaped past his lips.

Several of the mourners looked at him in shock.

The black mood forced another laugh out of him.

Fucking brilliant. Here he was, his uncles killer, at his funeral mourning his death.

The death he caused.

And what was he doing?

Laughing like the fool he was.

He shook his head and made his way past the rest of the mourners leaving them to stare at him with disgust and scorn.

May watched him leave, compassion in her eyes for her adoptive son.

Peter always drew the short stick in life and not for the first time, she wished that he would be happy.

* * *

Once I got that sad idea everything started flowing and now my ideas are back. Buuut I have other stories that I like to write so it will take time to upload. Hope you enjoyed it...or not.


	5. Chapter 5

There is no better cure than laughter

Chapter Five

Peter's walk back from the funeral was surprising to say the least.

The shining sun mocked him with it's cheery mood and sweat dripped down his suit collar. He tugged on the red tie from around his neck and let it drop onto the pavement leaving it behind.

Random people would walk up to him and give their condolences when he knew he didn't deserve them.

Didn't they know?

He was the one who killed Ben and caused May's agony. If anyone should be cared for it would be May.

But he carried on with a small smile telling them that he was okay.

Even if he was far from it. The agony he was feeling was so deeply rooted that he was numb to every emotion other than self loathing.

"Peter!"

He lifted his head and glanced around. Who was calling him now?

The sight of red hair drew a wince from Peter. It was Mary Jane his life long neighbor and childhood crush.

Her concerned face elicited another grimace.

He nodded his head towards her.

"Hello MJ. How are you?"

Silence met his question and he waited for her reply as she studied him.

"Do you want to fetch a cup of coffee with me?" She asked quietly.

Peter grinned softly as he understood what she was truly saying. Unlike others who asked of his well being she asked him out for a cup of coffee.

"Anything for a bit of normality."

She smiled and looped her arm in the crook of his.

"Good. I didn't want to have a Cup of Comfort alone."

He quirked an eyebrow in response.

"Like that has ever stopped you before?"

She smacked his arm. " Just accept the generosity at the moment. Only you can ever have a Cup of Comfort with me."

"I feel special."

"You should."

It was a recurring conversation they had each time they went our for coffee.

The place where Jane worked at had taught her how to make exceptionally good coffee brining forth the creation of the Cup of Comfort. Jane had been experimenting one day and then bam. A mixture of hazelnut and mocha coffee was created.

There was another important ingredient that she kept a secret. Or so she thought.

Peter was so familiarized with the coffee that he could discern the smallest bit of shaved nutmeg in the drink. He would never tell her though.

They entered her house and situated themselves in her kitchen. He sat down at the table and shrugged off his blazer as Mary Jane reached for two cups and placed one in front of him then sat across from him.

He watched the steam rising from the coffee and sat in silence. Suddenly the coffee didn't seem so appealing any more.

He could feel the tears burning the back of his eye lids and a scream tickled at the back of his throat.

A hand covered his own and he jumped in his seat slightly startled as he had forgotten that he wasn't be only one at he table.

He gazed into Jane's green eyes and the sympathy he saw there broke down his walls.

Sobs that couldn't come forth at the funeral, tore from beneath his chest and streamed down his face.

He heard Jane move and felt her hand on his head as she cradled it between her breasts.

Normally any guy would be ecstatic to be held face first into a woman's breast. But right now was not the moment for such perverted thoughts.

His eyes clenched tightly and his body shook as he tried to suppress his emotions.

Pain being the dominate one and then guilt, overwhelming guilt.

"Shhh. It's alright," she whispered as she rocked him back and forth.

"Let it out Pete, don't hide it from me."

Her words brought another wave of agony and he began to cry harder than before.

He knew he would regret looking so weak later but right now he didn't care.

He scrunched up the back of her shirt in his hands and ignored the slight ripping sound he heard.

The hand in his hair combed through his scalp trying to soothe him but the tears wouldn't stop coming.

He clenched his eyes tighter trying to stop the sea of salt water but nothing worked.

"Go ahead," she whispered, " no one can hear you."

Her words released something within him and his mouth opened to voice his sorrow.

"Why Jane? Why?" he sobbed.

She hugged him in silence not quite knowing the answer.

"He shouldn't of died. If anyone, it should've been me. It was my fault in the first place!"

His head was suddenly being yanked backwards by the roots of his hair and a slap sounded in the kitchen.

He cautiously peered at Jane with watering eyes and was met with a furious disposition.

"I don't ever want to hear you say that again Peter Parker. It happened for a reason we don't know but it most certainly is not your fault. Do you think Ben would be proud of you if he knew you were blaming yourself?"

"Ben's dead!"

He bit out with a scream.

"And he's not coming back. So what? You made a big mistake but learn from it and do not wallow in self pity. You can cry and you can feel hurt but you have to move on or you will get dragged down into self loathing all that will be left is a skeleton. And what of Aunt May? Don't you think she's hurt too?"

"She lost her other half and now she has to find a way to pay for bills. Are you going to let her do that by her self?"

With each point he slumped further and further into his seat.

When she had finished her tirade he murmured, "No."

" Good," said Jane as as held him at arms length.

"You can morn for him but don't let it drag you down okay?"

He nodded his head to let her know he understood and stood to embrace her.

He grinned around the salt on his lips and voiced his gratitude.

"Thank you."

She chuckled softly, "I hope I didn't hurt your scalp too much. I was a little harsh on you."

"No worries. I needed every little bit of harshness. Even if I did lose a hunk of hair in the process."

They chuckled and the burden that hung on his shoulders seemed to disperse with each cheerful laugh.

"So are you actually going to finish this coffee with me or are you going to let it get cold and let all my hard work go to waste?"

Peter grasped the drink and downed it in one enormous gulp.

"Does that answer your question?"

She huffed," I will never understand how boys can do that."

He grinned. "It's a secret."

They laughed even though his words were not hilarious in the least.

But nothing could heal better than laughter.


	6. Chapter 6

Ya know, I didn't watch the newest Spider-Man with Gwen in it for a reason. yet I watched it today and realized that they actually had Flash in it. I thought that Flash was only from the old comics but I guess not.

I also got some more idea because Of it. gotta say it was rather amusing when he got his skills and its really funny. But it sucked too. I got another story idea from watching that movie and its like Gah! Don't I have enough stories to work on?

...  
_Why Learn Martial Art when you could Use a Gun?_

...  
It had been a week since Peter last spoke with Mary Jane. Since Ben's death, everything was in a tumult and they were trying their hardest to get up and running.

Peter was avidly searching for a better paying job than his current one all the while helping his Aunt with payment. the funeral he had paid with his own savings though he never told his aunt that. She still believed that the money she had given him went towards the funeral.

No he had hidden the money for a better time when he knew that she would need it.

And finally, he had school to return to on Tuesday. He dreaded entering into school more than anything. With Jane in none of his classes and friendless he knew he would be hounded with tons of questions.

People were insensitive like that. And Peter wasn't too sure that he was ready to face their questions head on.

He was still healing from the whole experience and insensitive questions would only hurt him more.

There might be some that sympathized but his reputation was sure to bring more scorn than anything else.

He thought back to Flash as he cleaned the kitchen floor.

Was he serious about being his friend? or was it all a prank to make him look like a fool?

It wouldn't be the first time something of that sort had happened. He truly wished that Flash was being sincere because he didn't know how much he could take before he broke.

Plus there was the whole spider thing that freaked him out. At first he thought that it was all a one time thing. Kinda like an illness. But it never went away.

Something new was revealed when he discovered that he could scale walls with just his finger tips.

Did all of it mean that he was a spider? He certainly felt like one.

He knew he wouldn't be sharing his secret any time soon. they would probably lock him up in an asylum or take tests for alien reproduction. or something like that.

He released a sigh.

"Peter?"

"Yea?"

His aunt made her way towards him and held out her hand.

He looked at it quizzically.

She gestured for him to take the money she held there.

"What's this for?"

"I need you to make a deposit at the bank. my appointment with Dr. Crawford will take me in the opposite direction or I would drive myself."

Peter nodded his head, albeit reluctantly.

She smiled and patted his cheek. "Your a good boy Peter."

He chuckled lowly as she left and murmured softly,"No good enough,"

The yellow, Cadillac hummed to life as Peter ignited the engine.

The feel of the new leather seats bothered him with their unfamiliarity. The car had been refurbished since the wreck and all expenses were paid for by insurance. You would think that the car was a lost cause but Peter adamantly requested that he himself could fix the car.

He had labored over the car with an obsession. Like fixing his uncle's baby would be a last request for forgiveness.

He stared at the red light in front of him with exasperation. He hated red lights. They always made the car jostle and slam him against his seat belt no matter how skilled or how smooth he was when braking.

After counting slowly down from one hundred the light miraculously turned green.

"Finally," he took a turn to the left and entered the Fargo bank parking lot. He turned off the car and happily climbed out of the car.

It had become a suffocating space and Peter could feel his heart pounding in his chest at a rapid pace.

Shivers crawled up his spine and a reaction unknown to him, caused his heightened sense to become fully alert.

With a wary steps he approached the bank and stepped inside. the silence was really starting to ring alarm bells in his head.

Where were the bank tellers and the costumers?

A scream ripped through the silence.

Without a second's hesitation,Peter sprinted towards the plea for help.

Peter stalked the halls of the bank, creeping closer to where the sounds were coming from.

Silently he approached an iron door with metal netting covering the window and with a cautious stance, he peered into the room.

What he saw brought a shiver of fear running down his spine.

Gleaming metal reflected the fluorescent lights from above as several firearms were threatening citizens from within.

Dazed, Peter could only watch as the woman who had cried out was shot.

Silence seemed to choke the people held hostage.

None were willing to risk their lives to cry for help. It was unlikely that anyone would save them anyways.

A fire burned within Peter's chest. Seeing that woman, with blood pooling around her broke something primal within him.

And without a doubt, he charged within the room.

Everyone was taken by surprise. Including Peter. What the hell urged him to charge into a room full of criminals with guns in hand?

The surprise lasted for only a second before the men creating the hold up, aimed their guns towards Peter.

At the sight of the guns aimed towards him, Peters heart stopped.

He was in some deep shit.

Tense muscles sprung into action as Peter lunged towards the nearest gunman.

Expecting for the time freeze to kick into effect, Peter was unprepared when time continued as normal.

He should of expected it knowing that the few times it had worked were rare.

Yet he had blindly raced forward hoping against all odds that his new skills worked when he needed them the most.

Despite the disadvantage, he reached the gunman in seconds, his instincts kicked in and before any shots were out of the barrel he possessed two guns and leveled one at the gunman and the other at the security alarm.

Immediately all movement stopped.

Peter breathed harshly, the adrenaline running through his veins at a rapid pace and everything but the gunmen I front if him was blocked out.

"Drop the guns." he commanded.

The masked men looked at each other before one stepped forward his had held in a placating manner.

"Now kid, why don't you drop your gun and leave us alone. If you leave now, you won't get hurt. "

Peter wanted to scoff at the cliche line. Everyone knew that he was lying. Even the bound and gagged citizens were trying their hardest to convey to him that the man was not trust worthy.

But he didn't scoff. The scenario was too serious for fooling around.

Instead he shook his head no and said adamantly, "I have the upper hand. what makes you think that I would listen to you?"

And indeed he did have the upper hand.

The man snarled and lept forward but it was too late. Several gun shots rang through the air and then, there was horrified silence.


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks for the reviews Blunz. As usual all your reviews and follows and favorites make me happy. Enjoy the fast update. XD(It's kinda a filler)

A Terrible Habit.

You know You're in trouble when it becomes a habit to wake up seeing white walls and smelling antiseptics.

Several seconds later, screams ripped through the air.

Peter's hand fell loose and the gun in his right hand, dropped with a clatter to the ground.

His entire body shook as he felt the blood splattered on his face and upper body. He raised his crimson hand in horror.

He had just shot a man.

The other gunmen stood in shock. They hadn't believed Peter. They thought he was bluffing and now it cost them a friend in crime.

A body thumped loosely to the floor.

An anguished growl ripped through the air as the leader aimed at Peter's head.

"You killed him!" He screamed and let loose several shots towards Peter.

Plaster sprayed from the walls as bullet lodged themselves in the wall around Peter.

With his heart beating in his chest Peter blasted the security alarm and shot several of the gunmen.

The men howled in rage.

Suddenly time froze, the bullets whirling towards him froze.

His eyes widened at the sight of a bullet mere inches away from his face.

The spray of bullets aimed at him were frozen in air and each, were aimed at vital parts of his body.

He moved into action immediately and dodged the bullets even as the time freeze thawed, and time went back to normal.

Several cries rang over the sound of the security alarm as Peter's bullets, hit their target.

Out of the corner of his eye, Peter watched the civilians writhe within their bonds and several had already escaped.

A twinge of guilt ran through Peter at the sight of the wounded people hit by stray bullets but he shoved it down ruthlessly and with hardened eyes, he shot the gunmen.

He sent a prayer of thanks towards Uncle Ben and their gun lessons were now being put to use.

Suddenly his body snapped backwards. His mouth hung open as a fire blazed along pectoral muscles.

A glance downwards showed that he had been shot in the right side of his chest.

Everything faded out as he gazed at the crimson river.

It was beautiful. He ran his hands through the pool and held it up to his eye sight.

It was warm, sticky, and it was becoming very intriguing.

He wondered what it would taste like.

He giggled within his mind. He was turning into a spider, he knew it. Before he knew it, he would find flies and insects tasty.

His thoughts were cut off as somebody gripped his throat tightly.

The leader clutched his throat tightly forcing white spots in front of Peter's eyes.

He tried to gulp down the spit mingled with blood in his throat but choked harshly as his pipe was clenched shut.

"You killed my brother," whispered the gang leader harshly.

His blood shot eyes stared into Peter's from behind his thug mask.

Peter flailed about as his grip tightened.

"He was my brother," the man repeated brokenly.

"How dare you!"

The man flung Peter into the wall with a sickening crunch.

He slid down the wall and watched as the man stalked towards him.

He was pulled upwards one more by the throat and dangled in the mans grip.

"You killed and wounded all my men. Even a teen such as yourself will not escape my wrath."

Peter smirked around his bloody mouth.

"Too late," He rasped.

"The man sent him a confused gaze before his eyes widened and rolled upwards showing white.

Peter dropped to the ground and vaguely sent the police officer a smile.

Relieved that the law enforcement had arrived on time, he fell into a forced coma, shutting down his body from more blood loss and ultimately, death.

His eyes flickered open and he groaned as he saw the white walls and smelled the antiseptics of the hospital.

This was becoming a habit he really hated.

"Oh, Your awake."

Peter turned his head towards the female voice and took in the sight of a nurse in uniform.

He grinned weakly.

"What's the status doc."

She rushed towards him and checked his vitals before writing something on her writing board,

"How unusual." She murmured and glanced at Peter then at the information in her hands.

"It seems that your regeneration system is extremely efficient almost,miraculous."

Peter raised an eyebrow at this.

Advanced healing? Cool. He suspected it was another side affect from his newest

"Your were supposed to remain in the self induced coma for a week at the least."

His eyebrows rose at that.

"Wow,"

The nurse chuckled.

"That was my response. We can get you out of here by tomorrow. But it might be best if we keep you here one more night for observation but otherwise," She trailed off.

"Its all your choice. Oh and your Aunt is down in the waiting room."

Peter sat up at that.

A slight twinge of pain ran through his chest but he ignored it in favor of asking about his aunt.

"How is she faring?"

The nurse's brow furrowed at the strange question. He was the one in the hospital. She shrugged away the thought.

"She's fine. Now there is is a problem about the insurance. I was checking you files and it appears that your Etna insurance is not paying the bill."

Peter growled quietly. Insurance. They had a love hate relationship going on. One day they would pay for his injuries and losses, and the next they would withhold money.

They needed a new insurance company. He was so going to persuade May about that.

"Send me the bill to my home address and I will get the bill paid. I assure you."

She nibbled on her lip as she wrote out information.

"You live in Forest Hills correct?"

"Yes ma'am."

She nodded her head absently.

"Okay I will make sure you receive the may leave at any given ?"

"Got it."

"Good," She smiled once at him before leaving Peter alone.

He climbed out of the iron bed and before standing awkwardly in the same spot.

"Shit, I don't have any clothes."

He looked around the room in hopes of finding a pair of clothing other than the green hospital gown he was currently wearing.

When nothing came up he slumped his shoulders resignedly.

He prayed hard that no one he knew of would see him as he walked shamefully down the hospital halls.

Why didn't they leave him a pair of scrubbers in the least?

He waddled towards the lobby making sure that the gown stayed wrapped around his ower regions and backside.

Several women walked past and giggled at his red face and predicament.

Everyone but him was enjoying his suffering.

He groaned as he saw Jane sitting next to his aunt.

Dear Lord she was never going to let him live this down.

With reluctant steps he made his way towards them both.

Awkward silence hung in the air before his aunt surged to her feet and squeezed the living life out of Peter.

He gasped as he tried to breath for air.

"May your killing me," He managed to get out.

Jane giggled at the sight and patted him on the shoulder.

"Good to see your feeling good."

He grinned wryly over his aunts shoulder as she refused to let him go from her vise like hug.

"I won't be doing so well if my Aunt doesn't let go of me."

He raised his voice at the last words and his aunt gave him a sheepish grin as she released him.

Before she smacked him upside the head.

"What on earth where you thinking Peter Parker? What did you think would happen if you walked in on a hold up?Hmm?" She smacked him upside the head once more ignoring Peter's profuse apologies.

Jane smiled at the scene of a cowering Peter and furious aunt.

'That boy,' she thought. 'He better be careful. May has already lost a husband. She won't be able to survive the loss of a son as well.'

She joined in with scolding Peter before they both gave him more hugs and even a kiss on the cheek.

They couldn't loose this one. He was the light to their dim lives and he didn't know it.

"The police will want a witness report at the station later. But we can worry about that later. For now let's get you home."

Peter smiled at them both. "Sure thing Aunt May."

Jane smirked. and a camera flashed. "Perfect."

Peter snapped his head around. "Mary Jane you better delete that picture or else I'll.."

"You'll what? Hurt me?"

She laughed as she moved the camera out of his reach.

"Peter no ripping your stitches." She tsked.

"I can't believe you got shot. You are going to be in so much trouble when we get home."

Peter turned his attention towards his aunt. "But aunt May.." He whined.

"Not a word Peter."

Mary Jane laughed and hid the camera within her purse. She was glad she had come with May. Nothing was better than watching Peter constantly embarrass himself and get scolded.


End file.
